


The Walking Dead Mini-Series: Lost and Found | Chapter 1: "Together"

by TheWritingDead



Series: The Walking Dead Mini-Series: Lost and Found [1]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by The Walking Dead, POV First Person, POV You, POV Yousef Acar, POV reader, Protective Daryl Dixon, Series, Spoilers, The Writing Dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritingDead/pseuds/TheWritingDead
Summary: Mini-Series Summary: He is strong, but she is numb. After Daryl and the Reader manage to escape from Negan’s Sanctuary cells, they end up lost and arrive at a cabin that doesn’t look like it’s been touched since the outbreak. However, that doesn’t prevent their traumatic past from reminding them that it still happened.(This Mini-Series is separate and unrelated from my main series “The Walking Dead: Inevitable Termination”.It was originally intended to be a single, but due to reader requests, it is now a mini-series. Thanks for stoppin’ by.)





	The Walking Dead Mini-Series: Lost and Found | Chapter 1: "Together"

‘ _Nothing easy is worth having they say_ ’. That was the main thought pulsing in your brain right now.  


Just hours ago, you and Daryl were trapped in the Sanctuary in your separate, plundered cells. Negan had seen potential in both of you for whatever reason. Sure, Daryl was tough as nails, but you were numb to your core.

Ever since that fateful night - the night you and your group witnessed the brains of Glenn and Abraham being pounded into the dirt beneath you, you hadn’t said a word. You were already a reserved, numb person to begin with. That night turned you into nothing less than a mute.

Whenever Negan had decided to take you and Daryl back to his Sanctuary, he offered Daryl to be his right-hand man. Once Daryl had rejected his offer in front of his men, Negan became pretty heated, commanding Dwight to throw him in a cell immediately.

Negan’s sarcastic, taunting mask crept its way back onto his face as he eyed you next. He bit his lip, scanning your small frame up and down before speaking.

“I have an _even more_ special offer for you,” pointing Lucille at you as he spoke.

Negan inched his way closer to you, staring down into your eyes. You returned his gaze with apathetic eyes.

“It would be _my_ honor to offer you this once in a lifetime opportunity to be one of _my_  beautiful wives,” he boasted, giving your cheek a petting.  


You said nothing per usual while continuing to stare at him with a blank expression.

“Look, I understand this has been tough on all of you! I can understand _completely_  how this whole situation may have rubbed you the wrong way,” Negan smirked, nudging you with his elbow, “I get it; you’re speechless - probably super pissed at me! Well listen here, babycakes, this is a _once in a lifetime offer_.” He emphasized his words, attempting to persuade you.

You didn’t glare. You didn’t cower. You didn’t beam. You stared, noticing his face contort into the same angry expression he had given Daryl when he had rejected him.

“Alright! You have made your decision - _a dumbass one_ \- but nevertheless, your decision!”

Negan whistled at Dwight, “Packer’ up, Dwighty boy, “ he motioned as he made his way back into the building.  


Dwight yanked your arm, pulling you into a darker section of the building full of vacant cells. You two walked by what you assumed to be Daryl’s and Dwight walked you to the end of the hallway, as far from Daryl as possible.

As you two reached the end of the hallway, Dwight shoved you into your cell where you stumbled and landed on your side. You let out a grunt as you settled yourself in a sitting up position, glaring back up at Dwight who just huffed and slammed the cell door shut and locking it.

You wondered for a moment why he had taken you so far away from Daryl’s cell. Sure, you two were in the same group, but it was pretty clear to Negan and everyone else meeting the group that night that you two didn’t interact much if at all.

* * *

The first time you can recall him speaking to you was whenever you and the rest of the Survivors encountered him in the woods. You had joined the group of Survivors whenever the undead shit show first began. You had witnessed Ed beat Carol and even punched his lights out, Lori, Rick, and Carl reunite when he was just a little kid, Lori’s unfortunate death, and countless other sob stories.

Rick had always taken you along with the group because you were a badass fighter if he had ever seen one, and on top of that, he saw that you remained loyal to the group despite your few words and interactions. That was one of those times where you felt appreciation in your heart, but remained quiet and refrained from saying your “thank you”s or sharing your thoughts. Inside, Rick knew you were grateful. At this point, he knew you like the back of his hand even if he would never fully understand why you were a woman of such few expressions.

Whenever the group met Daryl, he was pissed about Merle being left on the roof by Rick and immediately started swearing and throwing his tantrum by shoving Rick. Automatically you stepped in to separate the two as Rick tried to explain himself. However, Daryl’s wasn’t having it and all he did was push you back and swear some more, pulling at a small blade from his belt.

You were in defensive mode at this point and gave him a good swing to his face before snatching his fallen blade off the ground. All he had done was sit there and sulk, realizing how outrageous he was being. He knew deep down that his brother was a pretty shitty person and that Rick did what he did to protect the group.

Once Rick and Daryl had sorted out the situation, Daryl walked over to retrieve his blade from you. All you did was look up at him before you pushed past to keep walking, maintaining your blank expression. For whatever reason, this pissed off Daryl even more and he grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to face him before demanding his pocket knife back.

Witnessing the event go down, Rick sighed and said, “(Y/N), give it back. He won’t do any harm.” before the situation could escalate even further.

You looked back at Rick then up to Daryl and reached into your pocket for the knife and handed it over to Daryl. He snatched it from you, stormed away, and grumbled, “Freak.”

After that, that’s pretty much the only word he used to address you.

“That freak.” “Hey, Freak.” The list went on. You weren’t sure if he expected you to be offended by this, burst out crying, or take pull out your liver and put it on your head. Regardless, you didn’t care and often ignored him, further angering him.  


As the years went on, he matured, began to take note of your personality, and the name-calling eventually ceased. Since then, he would attempt to make small talk with you and discuss whatever the missions were at that time.

You had no feelings for Daryl, negative or positive. As far as you were concerned, he was just another member of the Survivors that you could read inside and out. Of course, he didn’t know this and continued to look for opportunities to figure you out. You were used to people trying that and eventually giving up. However, this one was rather persistent.

* * *

Dwight returned to your cell a few hours later, tossing a sloppy sandwich filled with mushy dog food at your feet. You looked up at him and he noticed you were still in the same position you were in whenever he had left you there.

“You fucked up. You’re probably realizing that now, right?” he spoke, glaring down at you.  


You remained silent and shifted your gaze down to the sloppy Joe knock-off.

“You’re lucky Negan is talking about giving you another chance to make your decision - you and Daryl both,” he mumbled bitterly as Daryl’s name left his mouth, “Don’t fuck it up this time.” he spat before slamming your cell door shut again.  


A couple of hours later, you laid down on your stomach and crawled your way to the bottom of the cell door in order to use the light beaming beneath it to check the time on your wristwatch. 3:15 AM it read.

You pulled yourself up slightly and rested your back against the cold cell walls, not sure if you were going to get out of this or wind up dying at the hands of Negan first.

After taking in a deep breath, you shifted yourself onto your side and closed your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

* * *

Your eyes eased open at the sound of an annoying, consistent tapping on the cell door. You sat up and went to check your watch; it hadn’t even been an hour and as you were wondering who was on the other side of the door, a note slipped underneath it.

You mouthed the words silently to yourself, ‘ _GO NOW_ ’. This had to be a desperate attempt in tricking you to get yourself caught and killed by Negan’s men.

While debating whether or not to follow the note’s instructions, there came another sound at the cell door, but a soft knocking rather than the previous tapping. You stood up and tucked the note in your back pocket before inching towards the sound.

“Hey, (Y/N)… you awake?” a familiar voice whispered before opening the door slowly.  


You starred up at Daryl, somewhat surprised inside, but concluded that whoever tipped you off did the same to him and may have been actually trying to help you two escape. However, what was even more surprising is that Daryl took the time to sneak all the way down the hallway just to ensure you left with him. You held back a smirk and stepped through the door, crouching beside Daryl.

You knew inside that you’d do that to save a fellow group member in an instant, but you weren’t sure if Daryl would be the type to do that for you specifically.

You pulled the note out of your pocket as Daryl revealed his nearly identical note to you, confirming your previous assumption. Once you flipped it over, you were pleased to find a simple escape route through the back of the Sanctuary.

Per usual, you took the lead in the situation and guided the both of you through the dark hallways, occasionally hiding or ducking to prevent getting caught by wandering Saviors.

Your heart pounded louder as you and Daryl got closer and closer to the exit. You were sure that you two were nearing your fate if someone had set this whole trick up, but at the same time, you were willing to risk it since it meant escaping the cold, uncomfortable cells you and Daryl were caged in.

Once reaching a propped open metal door, you looked back at Daryl and he nodded, reassuring you that this was the exit on the map. After inhaling deeply and preparing yourself mentally, you both speedily darted through the exit and clung to the side of the building, preparing for an instant ambush of Saviors.

However, the night was silent and the parking lot you two were standing in was entirely empty - aside from a few motorcycles (one being Daryl’s) and a few other vehicles. Daryl looked down at you in disbelief that you two were still alive at this point. Whoever had tipped you two off was on your side.

You both took the time to mentally prepare yourselves again for escape and knew this was most likely the only chance you two would have so you had both had to take it now or later.

Quietly you and Daryl darted to his motorcycle: him hopping on first followed by you situating yourself and hanging onto him for physical security. Luckily, Dwight was stupid enough to leave the keys in the engine. You noticed him smiling to himself. You sighed quietly and hoped he didn’t take you latching onto him as anything affectionate or emotional; you simply didn’t want to go tumbling off of the motorcycle and plummeting into a group of walkers.

Daryl knew he had to make your departure quick because of his motorcycle’s loud engine. He took in a deep breath, paused, and started the motorcycle with ease before peeling off through the opening of the parking lot before anyone could react.

After you two were hidden by the darkness and in the clear, you looked back and noticed the parking lot lights turning on and a few Saviors running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. You sighed a breath of relief and continued to hold onto Daryl’s chest, praying he knew where he was going.

* * *

Daryl pulled his motorcycle up to an old looking cabin and parked. After you stepped off the motorcycle, you checked your wristwatch and were surprised you two had only been on the road for a little over an hour. It had felt much longer to you.

You walked over to the cabin and performed your usual tradition of knocking on its door and checking for any walkers. To your surprise, the entire cabin was empty of any dead bodies, walkers, or survivors. It appeared as if whoever lived there at one point just got up and left, leaving the place frozen in time.

After entering the cabin, you gave Daryl a confirming nod and he entered in behind you, shutting the door and locking it swiftly. You two began exploring the small cabin further - finding cans of vegetables, meat, and fruit as well as a made up bed in the only bedroom in the house. This place looked entirely untouched.

“I can’t believe it,” Daryl mumbled, “It’s like the world ended everywhere but here.”  


You agreed and walked over to the little kitchen on the far left side of the cabin to peel open a can of peaches. You ate the sweet fruit blissfully, appreciating every bite before setting the can on the kitchen counter. You then made your way into the living room area and sat down on the couch, staring blankly at the old television the previous owner had also left behind.

Daryl went into the kitchen to fetch himself a can of chili and a spoon before plopping down on the couch beside you. He took his first bite of the chili and smiled slightly, releasing a pleased sigh.

“Chili is some of the best shit ever,” he spoke before looking over to you, “Want some?”  


You shook your head and laid your head back on the couch, slowly closing your eyes.

“(Y/N),” Daryl began, somewhat concerned, “I know ya don’t talk much, but ya hadn’t said nothin’ at all since that night.”  


You remained in your position and heard him finish his can of chili before setting down on the side table. He looked over at you, a look of irritation forming fairly quickly. You expected as much. He was a hothead.

“Damn it, (Y/N). Would ya at least fuckin’ look at me like a normal person?” he scolded.  


You weren’t normal. You were numb and he knew that. Little did he know, you were normal at once point, but something happened years ago; before the outbreak even began. Something happened, something snapped that you would never forget or share. The pain of that time haunted you every day of your life since it happened and for you, not feeling, speaking, or showing how you felt was the absolute best way to cope in your mind. It was who you were now.

Daryl’s temper increased at a steady and quick pace before he grabbed your shoulders and forced you to make eye contact. You reluctantly opened your eyes and looked in his blankly.

“Fuckin’ say something!” he spoke harshly as he clenched your shoulders still to face him.

Why the hell did he care? You never in your life had to deal with such a persistent asshole hellbent on making you say something. It was complete bullshit in your mind, but you knew that remaining quiet would only cause the situation to escalate and you didn’t have the energy to deal with that right now.

You took a deep breath and spoke, “What, Daryl?”

Your voice sounded so foreign to you. It had been awhile since that night, and that combined with the fact that you hardly spoke before that heightened your senses. Daryl loosened his grip slightly and shot you a look of surprise - not believing you’d actually say something.

It was awkward and quiet between you two, you maintained your glare as he avoided eye contact, eventually dropping his grip on you all together.

“I’m worried.. for ya,” he admitted, furrowing his eyebrows at the ground.  


You thought reluctantly for a few moments before deciding to speak again, “Why?”

His eyebrows raised again in surprise before looking at you again - almost to confirm that the unfamiliar voice was indeed coming from you.

“’Cuz, you’re worse than me..weaker.. And I ain’t ever seen someone so detached from real life.” he spoke softly.  


For the first time in awhile, a nerve had been hit and your frustration began to rise within you. Normally, you’d ignore it and move on silently, but not this time. This time, was different from some ungodly reason.

“I’m not detached,” you stated, your eyebrows slowly betraying you and forming a slight expression of irritation on your face.  


This was it. Daryl patted himself on the back inside, knowing he struck a nerve somehow. The key now was to press you further with fragments from his previous sentence to figure out exactly what struck that nerve.

“I mean, I thought I was quiet, but you sure as hell got me beat on that,” he began.

He noticed your once tensed shoulders relaxing and knew that wasn’t what got you. Therefore, he tried the next fragment, “Just feel like you’re not in reality y’know?” he mumbled, analyzing your reactions carefully.

Your facial expression resumed to its blank state as you laid back into the couch, ignoring his continuous comments.

‘Fuck’ Daryl thought to himself before taking another jab at it, “I just thought ya were stronger than that..”

You furrowed your brows ever so slightly, but Daryl noticed that slight change in your appearance and chuckled internally. Your thoughts were running rabid at this point trying to pinpoint what he was trying to get from you, but the curiosity just kept converting into anger. Daryl finally realized what pissed you off and he was going to use that to his advantage. As far as he could see it, that was the only way.

Daryl stood up and faced you directly, staring down at you dominantly with the slightest smirk on his face. He bent down, resting one hand on the side of the couch while pushing his nose against yours.

He spoke roughly, “(Y/N), you’re weak.”

Your blood began to boil slowly as his words replayed in your head. After everything. After all of the shit your pathetic 22-year-old life has gone through, you knew for damn sure that you were not fucking weak. He knew those exact words were going to fire you up, but why the hell did he want to do that to you?!

 _Snap_. That’s all it took. You pushed against his nose and rose to your feet, staring up at him. Daryl was over a foot taller than you so your attempt at dominance amused him, and that infuriated you further.

“I am not fucking weak,” you spoke, your voice cracking from anger.  


Daryl knew he was in dangerous territory now, but he couldn’t care about that even if he tried. You were the first person to put up this much of a fight with him just to figure out who you were because he knew you were hurting more than he was and that you were strong as hell by the way you acted, and that turned him on.

“Yeah, ya are, (Y/N). Face it, ya don’t show any form of emotion ‘cuz it’s easy for ya. That’s what makes ya weaker than me. All ya do is keep that same damn blank look on your face every fuckin’ second of every fuckin’ day. I can cry or smile, but you.. Man.. You are all forms of weak. It takes true strength to show emotion - little or a lot.”  


Daryl’s words kept stinging you one by one. Every single word was true. It was as if his words were single drops falling into your ocean of pain and trauma and he had finally broken your dam after your countless attempts at patching it closed.

Your eyebrows raised, your tensed shoulders dropped, your lips weakened from their previous grimace, and worst of all, your eyes stung with the tears that had cracked open your protective dam.

Your knees felt wobbly and you dropped to the carpet knees first and then on your arms in defeat. You curled to the floor like a frightened turtle hiding in its shell, sobbing loudly at this point. You were ashamed, weak, and now, embarrassed.

Daryl looked down at your pitiful form, guilt crashing down over his conscience. Tears grew in his eyes instantly as he dropped down to you and wrapped his strong arms around your small frame. You wanted to push him off. You wanted to damn him to hell, but ultimately, you wanted to stay in his arms. A feeling of sweet release you had never felt before washed over your body.

Daryl apologized continuously, cradling you and planting a warm kiss on your forehead in the moment. He didn’t care about age difference or your feelings for him. At that moment, all he cared about was your unstable emotions and making sure you were comforted.

Your cries intensified as every torturous act that had come and gone in your lifetime played on repeat. Your family, your friends, your self-esteem, the outbreak, Negan’s torture on your group, Glenn, Abraham, Beth.. The list went on and so did the rivers coming from your eyes.

Daryl knew this was all bottled emotions. He could see it with every word and name you mouthed as you shook and shouted desperately.

What felt like hours went by before your tears and sniffles kept decreasing in pace. You were exhausted and _literally_ weak from the tears and screaming. Daryl had been there the entire time rocking you and occasionally pressing his lips to your cheeks and forehead. You didn’t bother fighting it. You didn’t want to. Daryl had done something no one else had ever done in your life; he crumbled your shell to pieces, and instead of choosing to walk away or destroy you further while you were at your lowest, he remained there making sure you had every ounce of comfort you needed.

Your crying eventually ceased, leaving behind the usual sniffles, puffy eyes, and pitiful lip quivering. Daryl took note of your tears fleeing and slowly reached one hand on the right side of your cheek, pulling you to face him.

“(Y/N)… Please forgive me. I thought I was helpin’ ya open up. I had no clue this would happen. I never meant to hurt y-”

You cut off Daryl’s words abruptly, pressing your lips against his. His wide eyes eventually came to a relaxing close as he returned your kiss and held the back of your head gently.

Once pulling away, you spoke softly between sniffles, “You didn’t hurt me, Daryl… You saved me.”

Daryl’s eyes lit up in surprise and immediately began watering again. Every feeling for one another that you two had suppressed for so many years bloomed in that moment.

“You are the strongest fuckin’ woman I have ever met, (Y/N),” he whispered, “I have always admired that - wanted to be like that… But I could never be and that’s what pissed me off for so many damn years.”  


You eyes began watering again as well. You had no idea Daryl Dixon had felt that way about you for this long, and on top of that, you sure as hell had no idea how much you actually cared about that. All the years he’d bully you and try to build up the courage to make small talk with you; it had all made sense now. You thought he just hated you so you forced yourself to hate him back when in all reality, you were crushed and even insecure.

“Daryl,” you whispered shakily, “ _You_  are the strongest man I’ve ever met… And all of these years, I’ve been trying to push away any sort of positive feeling for you - all because I was so sure you hated me and looked down on me.”  


“(Y/N), that is far from the truth.. In fact, my feelin’s are the exact opposite,” he looked towards the ground, somewhat embarrassed before confessing, “I-I think I love ya, (Y/N)..”  


For the first time in 22 years, your heart fluttered and it was the most beautiful feeling had ever experienced in your short lifetime. This feeling is what encouraged you to make a bold move.

“I love you, Daryl,” you whispered after lifting his chin to meet his eyes, “I-I know I do.”  


Daryl’s eyes lit up leaving tears in display. He embraced you firmly and pressed his lips against your shoulder, easing his kisses up your neck and lips slowly. You closed your eyes blissfully, enjoying every single kiss he planted against your skin.

Once Daryl made it up to your lips, he paused and whispered against them, “You and me, we’re gonna make it through this. We made it through the Governor, Gareth, through hell and back… We’re gonna pack whatever shit we can find here and we’re gonna head back home to Alexandria _together_ ,” he paused and proceeded to press his lips gently against yours before resuming his words, “And then, we are gonna do what we gotta do to kill Negan and make it past his shit show too. You ain’t losin’ me and I sure as hell ain’t losin’ you…”

Daryl gripped your hand firmly as you both closed your eyes before finishing his speech, “ _Together_ ”.

“ _Together_.” You whispered in agreement.  


You both sealed the deal with another tender kiss before helping each other to your feet and walking towards the bedroom hand in hand to obtain a much-needed rest together.

The plan was set in stone for tomorrow: take what you can from this place, head home to Alexandria, and develop a plan with the group to defeat Negan. _Together_. There were no other options.

The plan was set in stone for the rest of your lives: Stay strong, survive, grow. _Together_.

********

**Author's Note:**

> **Next in Series: Part 2: “When We Get There” (Coming soon) ******


End file.
